One day, when I was still quite new to cooking, I prepared a chicken recipe called “Honey Butter Orange Chicken” for a small gathering of friends. While we enjoyed cocktails, everyone commented on the mouth-watering aroma wafting from the kitchen, which helped to alleviate some of my fear of serving an untried recipe to my guests.

 

When it was time to serve the highly anticipated dish, I opened the oven door and was very pleased with the result, believing that our tastes buds would, indeed, justify the unanimous favorable opinion of our noses. There was, however, one problem: Some of the escaping juices from the chicken and the dabs of butter that melted, had raised the level of the hot, gooey sauce in the baking dish to near brimful. When I pulled the dish from the oven, I dumped at least half of the sticky mixture onto the hot oven door where it sizzled and made a nice baked-on mess. This mishap was followed by one of the chicken breasts slipping out of the dish, plopping onto the oven door, then, of course, coming to rest on the floor. Being a believer of the “five second rule,” I thought, what the heck, so I grabbed the wayward chicken with my left hand and threw it onto the counter, making sure that it would be the piece that I would serve to myself. Of course, while I was retrieving the blasted chicken from the floor, still holding the dish with my right hand, I dumped more of the sauce—this time, onto the floor and onto the tip of my shoe.

 

After treating the second degree burns on my hands, I had one of those rare moments that we all have from time to time when anger defeats logic. I opened the back door and threw the whole works out into the snow bank, hoping that it would melt its way to the bottom, concealing all evidence of its existence until spring.

 

Feeling pleased about my moment of insanity, I went back to the kitchen, hosed it down quickly; then I returned to my guests and announced, “There’s been a slight change in the dinner menu: Pizza is on the way.”

 

Moral: Don’t attempt to pull a hot chicken dish from the oven after downing two martinis big enough to bathe in.